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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27915970">So fine and radiant and bright</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fericita/pseuds/Fericita'>Fericita</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Mercy Street (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Arthurian, Canon verse, Emmry, F/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 09:48:49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>342</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27915970</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fericita/pseuds/Fericita</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Emma has moves into Mansion House and is given Henry's room.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Emma Green/Henry Hopkins</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Mercy Street Crossover Advent Silver and AU</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>So fine and radiant and bright</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For Day 6 of Mercy Street Advent: Silver and AU, Arthurian Legend day! Thanks @jomiddlemarch for the prompt and @the-spaztic-fantastic for the beta and the best comment ever about what Henry needs to do here. Title from the 12th century poem Lancelot, or The Knight of the Cart by Chretien de Troyes.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="">
  <p>Lancelot confronted with Guinevere’s comb could not have been more overcome.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Henry rocked back on his heels and then dropped heavily to his bed, the sight of the hairbrush and Emma’s lace collar on the polished chestnut of his dresser such a subject of fantasy that he shook his head once to see if it would vanish like a mirage. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The day had begun before the dawn as they often did at Mansion House.  Was this a waking dream, making manifest his deepest wishes? It would be a welcome relief from the nightmare reality of the hospital, though it might be a sign that waking to pray the daily offices was not the restorative he hoped.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Emma – or at least her hairbrush – in his room.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He studied the dark strands upon the brush and remembered the feel of it between his fingers as it tumbled down from pins and ribbons, the press of their bodies and how she had responded with eager hands, pulling him closer.  How he had gripped her hand in his and then tasted her name on his lips and then her open mouth, their tongues brushing and lips sliding.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He walked back into the hallway just as Matron Brannon walked up, handing him an empty crate and gesturing at the room.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“You’ll have to move your things.  Emma’s here now and I put her in your room.  You’ll go to Dr. Foster’s and share with him when he returns.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Henry took the crate from her and nodded, hand already on the doorknob.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“But if you ask me, a few sweet words from you, and it may be your room again.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He closed the door to the sound of her laughter and set about gathering his belongings.  And as he lingered over the hairbrush, as he traced his fingers along the intricate lace of the collar, imagining her neck beneath his hands, he made it a confession and a supplication. Wondering if the desires of his heart were still within reach, or forever confined to that one stolen moment.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p> </p>
</div>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>While googling for this Arthurian Legend prompt, I saw that Lancelot just straight up falls off a horse when he glimpses Guinevere's comb and that felt like a very Henry thing to do, so.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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